So we are driving to the Children's National Hospital at like 4:30
am. As much as the time is not...preferable, I give my wife credit,
because she took care of the midnight feeding (midnight was the last
time the baby girl would be able to eat before the exam at 7:30). It's
been roughly 12 hours since we found out that there is an unidentified
mass just above our daughter's kidney. Armed with Starbucks we charge
the mechanized armies that make up DC's traffic. 45 minutes and one lap
around the hospital we figure out where to park and wheel our still
sleeping (thank God) child up to the surgery waiting room.
Skipping
past the next hour and a half where our hungry oscillated between
screaming and sleeping. We were led to a little room where we were to
give Cambria some contrast slowly over the course of an hour. Cambria
ate and fussed, but due to the combination of holding, rocking, singing
and talking we were able to keep the little ball of angry at a perpetual
simmer. The nurse however did not have the perspective of just how bad
Cambria is when she isn't getting what she wants and frets about it
every few minutes. He proceeds to reduce her wait time by 5 minute
increments until it rested at 40 minutes. We were amused to hear the
tech's complain about this breach of protocal, but the test went well
despite it. Cambria slept as if she were on my shoulder (praise be).
Once
all was said and done the nurse told us to go home and wait a few days
for results. However, hearing this our pediatirician bristled (we like
our pediatrician) and we got a call 45 minutes later by another Doctor I
hadn't heard of telling us to meet her in some waiting room for an
unofficial discussion of Cambria's results. After a bit of an adventure
negotiating the complicated halls of that particular hospital which
seems to have similar rules of directions that might be employed on the
Tardis. Ok we found the department and you have to take a moment when
you realize that your about to walk your baby into a room that has an
arrow pointed at it with the words "Cancer Center". After me and my
wife managed to breath again we went and they told us two wait for what
was being labled as tests. This whole thing felt like the medical
version of meeting in an abandoned garage, and I mean that in the
fondest possible way. A short wait later one Doctor Meany (I swear
she's very nice) comes in and has us follow her as she looks around for
an empty room. She then explains that she glanced at our CT scan and
that the mass in Cambria's stomach greatly resembles a Cancer called
Neuroblastoma. She proceeds to explain in admirable detail (considering
this was completely off schedule and she has a very busy profession)
that this is a very treatable form of Cancer and that she has a bunch of
experience with it. She said a great many encouraging things, however
the same four words kept replaying in my wife's head and mine: "your
daughter has Cancer".
In summation: Over the course of
24 hours we have had a checkup, sonogram, CT scan, and meet with a
specialist. Our God is an awesome God.
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